Robcapades
by VampireMadonna
Summary: The sexcapades of Twilight's Robert Pattinson. It's a Lemon-fest. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: You Shook Me All Night

Chapter 1

You Shook Me All Night Long

She spotted him at the end of the bar, swirling what looked like scotch. He was bedraggled and scruffy as ever. Not for the first time she wondered what his appeal was. So many women drooled and swooned over the guy but she just couldn't figure out why. Sure, he was relatively attractive… if you went for the dirty, grungy type. His hair was always a mess, his clothes usually hung half-hazardly on his lanky frame. It was rumored he didn't shower often or wash his mucky hair. As her eyes swept slowly over his hunched figure, she could believe that there was some truth to it.

Yet…there really was something about him…

"Bartender," she called in her soft, husky voice. When the bartender came over she instructed him to serve her 'friend' down at the end another of whatever drink he had in front of him.

She watched as the drink was placed in front of him, watched as the bartender gestured in her direction.

He looked up and his eyes locked with hers. They were barely visible under the brim of his baseball cap, another trademark of his, but from what she could see, they looked wary.

_Probably wondering if I'm another crazy fan about to jump him_, she thought. The thought made her chuckle and she turned back to her drink, breaking away from his gaze.

It was with surprise that she looked up to find him standing next to her a moment later, his drink in hand.

"Thanks," he said simply, sitting on the stool beside her.

She nodded, and then took a sip of her drink. "You're welcome, Mr. Pattinson."

"So you _do_ know who I am," he said.

"Of course."

"I wondered for a moment when you didn't come over. Most fans don't keep their distance. They'd be more likely to bring the drink themselves… and offer themselves with it."

Her brows drew together sharply. "Who said I was a fan?" she asked dryly.

A look of confusion passed over his face. "Well, I thought…"

"Oh, I can imagine what you thought," she retorted, chuckling to herself.

A flush stole over his features and he had the grace to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry if I offended you…" he started.

She waved away his apology. "It's okay. I imagine it's hard to believe that there's someone out there who _doesn't_ want you when you have all those crazy fan-girls chasing after you day and night."

He took out a cigarette, lit. He blew a long stream of smoke out in front of him, watching it curl as he answered. "It _does_ get tiring sometimes. But it's part of the job so…I deal with it. Don't really have a choice."

She nodded, gesturing for the bartender to touch up her drink. She glanced at his. "Can I get you anything else…Rob?"

He looked over at her use of the familiar. "No, thanks." He waited until the bartender left before he continued. "You know my name but I have yet to hear yours."

She shrugged. "Names are hardly important. 'A rose by any other name is still a rose.'" She flashed him a cheeky smile.

He grinned. "Rose it is then."

They exchanged pointless banter for a while, the dark, understated atmosphere of the shabby bar affording them privacy. Eventually, 'Rose' decided that there'd been enough pleasantries and it was time to get down to business.

"So, can we move onto the next part of the evening now?"

His eyes widened momentarily before narrowing in suspicion. "I beg your pardon?"

"Cut the crap, Rob. There's no reason for a guy like you to come to a dump like this unless he's trying to escape. You've had your drink, your smoke, and more than enough mindless conversation. What better way is there to end the night than with some skin-on-skin? What better escape is there than fucking a stranger?"

He blustered at her blunt words even as she saw intrigue light his eyes. His eyes…they were one of the few things she could honestly say she liked about him. They were quite beautiful, striking even.

"If you think I'll expect sweet words and roses on the bedside table in the morning, you're sadly mistaken. I've got a plane to catch in," she paused to glance at her watch, "three hours so I'll probably be gone before you're awake."

He continued to stare at her in shock. He'd received all sorts of invitations, had been quite disturbed by most of them, but never had it been proposed in such a business-like fashion. Maybe it was her clipped tones or no-nonsense attitude but he found himself wanting to strip her of her cool façade as surely as he was about to strip her of the black cocktail dress she wore.

Throwing his head back, he downed the contents of his glass and stood. She rose and led the way out of the bar and up the steps to the second floor. Like the bar, the hallway left a lot to be desired. No doubt the room would too.

"How come you're staying in a place like this?" he asked as she stopped in front of a door and pulled out a key-card. He was surprised the place was updated enough to even have the technology for it. "You seem like a classy woman. I'm sure you're accustomed to more luxurious surroundings than this."

She walked into the room and stood beside the bed, throwing her purse on a nearby chair. It was a lot better than he would have thought. It looked clean, at least. It was simply furnished: a queen-sized bed, chair, bedside table with lamp, small closet, television and the adjoining bathroom.

She kicked off her shoes and reached behind to unzip her dress. "It's close enough to the airport without my having to hear every plane that lands or takes off. I wasn't really planning on sleeping, wasn't looking for company either. Just waiting for my flight." She hooked the straps on her fingers and tugged, letting it slither to the floor at her feet.

He gulped as his eyes traveled the length of her scantily clad body. She really didn't plan on wasting any time.

As if she heard his thoughts, she goaded, "Come on, Mr. Pattinson. You've got three hours to prove to me whether you deserve this studly reputation you seem to have."

His eyes tightened and his jaw clenched. He was at her side in two short strides, his hands gripping her waist as he pulled her roughly to him. He knew she was not the sort of woman to appreciate tenderness so he didn't even try. His lips were bruising as they crushed hers, his tongue forcing her lips apart as it plundered and conquered her mouth.

She didn't respond immediately, just held herself still as if to further incite him. But it wasn't long before her hands were gripping him, pulling and tugging at his clothes. She found herself being flung face down onto the bed. He was on top of her in an instant, tearing at her panties and bra. She could feel his skin against hers, feel his erection prodding her thighs even as he wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her to her knees.

Again, he was not gentle. He was not gentle when he drove himself deeply into her, filling her to the brim. He did not waiver when she cried out, her back arching from the suddenness of his thrust. He was not gentle when he bent her over 'til her face was pressed into the mattress, gripped the hands that supported her in his own and started pounding, his hard thighs slapping against softer ones. He didn't let up even as her breathing became labored, her back straining against the weight of his body on top of hers. He pressed his lips into the side of her neck and nibbled before whispering, "How am I doing so far?"

He heard her growl low in her throat but the sound cut off as he felt her tighten around him, then spasm after spasm seemed to tremble through her body. He gritted his teeth against the urge to explode, her orgasm threatening to spur his. No, he wasn't done with her yet. He'd make her eat her words.

Or so he thought…

No sooner had the words passed through his mind than she bucked him off with one backward shove of her ass. He had no idea where she got the energy from but she was a strong little monster. She glared at him and pushed him onto his back, straddling his hips.

"Bet you thought you had the upper-hand, didn't you?"

She gripped his wrists and pressed them back against the pillows. He could have resisted, of course, but he was curious. Suddenly he felt his hand being tied to a bar on the headboard. He jerked his head up to see a scarf being secured around his wrist. He swung his surprised gaze back to her triumphant one.

"Where the hell did that come from? I thought you said you weren't expecting company?"

She smirked as she reached behind him and pulled another scarf out from under the pillow to tie his other wrist. "I didn't but it never hurts to be prepared."

For a moment fear clogged his throat. What had he gotten himself into? She'd seemed genuine when she said she wasn't a fan but heaven knew some people were natural born liars.

She caught the fear in his eyes and grinned, a feral expression on her small face. She looked like the cat that ate the canary…or was about to.

She shifted, reached down and gripped his hardness as she lowered herself onto him. Her eyes closed, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. She moved slowly at first, seemingly lost in her own world. He looked at her, which was all he _could_ do, taking in the flush that spread across her pale skin. Her teeth bit down on her bottom lip as one hand reached up and caressed a breast. When he saw her tweak one taut nipple, his hips bucked involuntarily, his hands pulling against the ties that bound him.

She had completely turned the tables on him. He ached to touch her, to put his mouth where her finger tugged at her unresisting flesh. When her other hand came up to caress her free breast, he closed his eyes and imagined it was him. His hips rose to meet her downward movements as she rode him, their quickened breaths loud in the quiet room.

Suddenly, he felt her hands on his chest. His eyes flew open when he felt her pinch first one nipple, then the other. Her eyes caught and held his as she grazed the flat discs with the sharp points of her nails. He winced but that only served to urge her on. She held the little points between her thumb and forefinger and squeezed while simultaneously increasing her rhythm, grinding her hips into his in deep, exaggerated movements. It wasn't long before his head was twisting against the pillows, fighting against the explosion that he knew was inevitable.

Again, she seemed to be reading his mind because she lifted off until he was almost completely released from her body then sank back down, squeezing her muscles as she did so. He couldn't hold it off any longer. His hips thrust upward and a fierce moan tore from his throat as he peaked. She was seconds behind him, riding him as she rode the waves of her own climax.

When it was over, she collapsed on top of him. She didn't have the strength to reach up and untie him, didn't even have the energy to roll off, so she just lay there. Eventually, their ragged breathing eased and she was finally able to speak.

"Okay…maybe you _do_ deserve your reputation."

He laughed, feeling a lightness in his heart that he hadn't felt in a long time. "Glad you approve."

-------

Midday sunlight was streaming through the windows when he finally opened his eyes. He instantly knew that he was alone, couldn't feel any heat in the bed beside him. He marveled at the fact that she was able to even move after the night they had shared: the many things they had done and the many ways in which they did it.

The room was still and quiet with the exception of the television droning on in the background. He couldn't remember it being on the night before. She had probably turned it on when she was getting dressed and had forgotten to turn it off. Something the reporter was saying caught his attention and he rose up on his elbow to look at it, at the same time reaching for the remote on the bedside table to turn up the volume.

"_Spotted: Kristen Stewart arriving at L.A.X early this morning to catch a flight to New York. As seen in the photo, Kristen wore an AC/DC tee, completed with customary side-knot, jeans and Converse. Her only accessory: the worn, blue baseball cap suspected to have been worn previously by rumored love, Robert Pattinson. Pattinson has been seen wearing a similar, if not identical, cap several times, but so has Stewart. It's curious that they have never been seen wearing a hat at the same time."_

"_Perhaps they're playing their own little version of 'tag',"_ another reporter joked.

"_Is it in fact the same cap?"_ the first reporter asked. _"You decide."_ Two pictures appeared side-by-side of him and Kristen wearing what seemed to be the same blue cap.

Chuckling, he rolled onto his stomach and closed his eyes. "I guess I'm 'it'."


	2. Chapter 2: Love In An Elevator

Chapter 2

Love in an Elevator

He stepped into the elevator and punched in the floor he was headed to. He always wondered why there were so many skyscrapers in New York. Why did the corporations feel the need to compete with each other in such a petty way?

"My building's taller than yours," he muttered snidely, then laughed as he realized how stupid he sounded.

_Feminists might say it's just another way for men to assert their masculinity and power_, he thought. _Instead of using a yard-stick to measure their dicks, they're competing with the heights of their buildings_.

He paused for a moment. _When did I become a feminist? This is very worrying…_

His thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the doors as he reached his destination. He walked out onto the 50th floor and headed to the office at the end of the hall: the big one with the huge, gold doors.

It was some time later that he resurfaced. He shuffled along wearily, glad to be alone. He really hated meetings. If he didn't love acting so much, it really wouldn't bother him to quit. All the business wheeling and dealing, the ass-kissing: it wasn't his style. He sat there, nodded, spoke when he had to and made his escape as soon as it was possible.

"Thank God for agents," he murmured as he stepped into the elevator. He selected the ground floor and watched as the doors closed. He stared at his reflection in the brass doors. He did _not_ look good. He looked like a man on the verge. The verge of what, he wasn't sure, but whatever it was, it wasn't good.

His reflection was interrupted as the doors opened and a girl stepped in. He glanced up at the floor counter. Twenty-five floors to go.

The girl smiled as she walked in and punched the ground floor. He gave a half-hearted smile and shifted to one side of the carriage.

The elevator seemed to be descending slowly. He didn't remember it taking that long to get to the top. _Or maybe you were too busy with your feminist rant to notice_, a small voice teased.

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped but tried to cover it with a cough when he saw the girl glance at him out of the corner of her eye.

Suddenly the elevator came to a grinding halt, the loud noise reverberating around the cab as darkness descended.

He heard the girl cry out as the elevator groaned again and automatically reached a hand out to her. She latched onto it and threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his neck. He froze, startled by her reaction, before forcing himself to relax enough to pat her on the back.

"It's okay. I'm sure everything will be sorted out soon." His voice was calm and soothing, relaying to her that he wasn't at all concerned.

They stayed like that for a while, until she seemed to remember that she was hyperventilating on a stranger. She pulled back immediately, thankful that he couldn't see her blush in the darkness.

"I'm so sorry," she quickly apologized, her words rushed and hiccupy as she still sought to catch her breath. "It's just that I'm claustrophobic and, I'm so ashamed to admit this, afraid of the dark."

He chuckled softly. "I'm not too fond of small, enclosed spaces myself."

Suddenly, the emergency lights came on, accompanied by a voice over the intercom. "We are experiencing electrical difficulties. I know that some of you are trapped in the elevators. Please, and I stress the urgency of this, do _not_ try to exit the cab. Do _not_ attempt to open the doors and do _not_, I repeat, do _not_ open the emergency hatch on top. The electricity may come on at any second and any of these acts may cause bodily harm. We are working as quickly as possible to restore all function. Please be patient. Thank you."

He sighed and slid down to the ground, his arms dangling from their perch on his knees. "It looks like we may be here a while."

The girl seemed to freeze where she stood, her eyes widening in fear as she shook her head. "No, no, no, no, no…"

"Shh." He reached up and took her hand, pulling her down beside him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, gave a gentle squeeze. "It's okay. What do you usually do when you get claustrophobic?"

"Get out!" she replied immediately.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, what do you do if you can't get out?"

"Well…" she thought for a moment. "If I can get distracted then I'm usually okay."

He nodded. "Well, that's what you need then: a distraction. Should be simple enough."

He glanced down at her, really looking at her for the first time. She was cute, in a homey kind of way. Curly, shoulder length, blond hair; a petite figure. He couldn't see her face that well in the light but from the brief glance he'd cast at her when she'd entered, he remembered she had a nice smile.

"Let's talk. What were you doing here today?"

She took a big gulp of air before answering. "I had an audition for a movie."

"What movie is it? Do you think you got the part?"

"I don't really know the specifics of it. They had me read a generic piece of material; I don't think it's actually from the movie script. They seemed to be pretty hush-hush about that. I guess they just wanted to see if I could bring across whatever they're looking for. I think I did well. They seemed pleased with my performance."

She pulled back slightly and looked up at him with a slight smile. "What are _you_ doing here, Robert? Signing a multi-million dollar deal for your next big movie?"

He wasn't surprised that she knew who he was but he was grateful that she hadn't jumped him the minute she saw him in the elevator. She didn't seem the type.

He shrugged noncommittally. "Something like that."

She nodded, leaning away from him slightly. "I feel better now. This is working." She sent him a grateful smile. "Thanks."

He smiled back. "Glad I could help."

-----

_Oh, he's so fuckin' hot! If I wasn't trying so hard not to faint, I'd totally jump him right now!_

It was true that she was claustrophobic: she was hanging on by a thread. But her claustrophobia was only part of the reason she couldn't breathe properly. The other reason was that she was trapped in an elevator with Robert Pattinson. Robert. Fucking. Pattinson. How did she get so lucky?

_Ugh, why couldn't he be naked? That's all the distraction I need! Although I'm sure I'd be hyperventilating for a whole other reason then. I wonder what he _looks_ like naked. He's supposed to be hung, isn't he? That's the rumor anyway._

She decided then and there that she was going to make the best of the situation. It wasn't every day that you found yourself trapped in an elevator with Edward Cullen himself. Who knew if she'd see him again after today? Who knew if they'd live after today. The elevator could collapse and kill them. It wasn't common but it _could_ happen. She nodded to herself.

He caught the movement and raised a questioning eyebrow, to which she responded with an innocent smile.

_Now, now, we mustn't make him think we're disturbed or anything. That would not be helpful at all._

"You look tired, Rob," she commented in what she hoped was a concerned voice.

He sighed and wiped a hand over his face. "Yeah, I was thinking that before you came in."

"Would you like a massage?" she offered quickly. _Where the hell did that come from_, she instantly chastised herself. _Do you want him to think you're a nut? One of those crazy fans who just wants to have their way with him?_

_It's not untrue, _another voice pointed out.

Rob looked at her sharply, his body stiffening as he assessed his surroundings. She _seemed_ harmless enough but he knew how quickly that could change. Wasn't it just a few days ago that a woman launched herself at him outside the airport?

"Um…"

"Oh, my gosh, I'm so embarrassed!" She covered her face with her hands, her voice genuinely repentant. "I know how that must have sounded. I'm so sorry, it's just that, you do seem tense and tired and well, I've been told I give really good massages and I'm starting to feel nervous again and the distraction really was working…"

As she rambled on, he felt himself relaxing again, a smile tilting the corner of his lips. _She's just trying to be nice_, he thought. _It's the nerves getting to her_.

"Sure. A massage sounds good."

She looked at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"

He shrugged. "If it'll help you take your mind off our situation, why not?" He turned his back to her and slouched so she would have easier access. "Personally, I think I'm getting the better end of the deal," he joked.

Her hands were tentative when they first touched his shoulders but became more confident when he seemed to be relaxing beneath them. They talked as she worked and she could feel herself falling under his spell. It was enough that he was so physically attractive, the mere unconscious movements of his body sufficed to turn a woman on, but as she listened to him, the sweet music that was his voice and the intelligence behind it made her become aware of the stirrings in her body.

She was getting hot.

"Phew!" she dropped her hands for a second, exaggeratingly tugging at her clothes. "It's so hot in here!"

"Yeah, it is." He reached behind his neck and pulled at the collar of his shirt, which clung to the damp skin at his neck.

She cast a sidelong glance at him. "Rob…would you mind terribly if I just took my top off? It's bad enough we're stuck in here but it's so uncomfortable too. I'll stay behind you at all times, you won't have to see a thing."

Rob stared at her unblinkingly for a minute. _Was she for real_, he wondered. Yes, he was a celebrity but was she really okay with getting half-naked in front of a stranger? Or perhaps it was the nerves talking again.

_It's not like you'll mind_. That lecherous voice that he tried so hard to ignore reared its ugly head. _A free show is a free show._

It had a point.

He shook his head and turned away. "No, you go ahead. If it helps you get comfortable."

He heard rustlings behind him but didn't turn around.

"Ahh. That's so much better."

Her hands were back on his shoulders, kneading the knotted flesh. Shortly after, she said, "You know, it might be more comfortable for you, and definitely easier for me, if you took your shirt off. Or at least undo the top buttons so I can get to your skin without the shirt in the way."

She was surprised when he immediately obliged. Instead of unbuttoning the shirt, though, he ripped it off over his head, taking his undershirt with it.

Robert Pattinson was officially topless in front of her. She felt faint.

_Get your act together, bitch_, she mentally slapped herself.

He heard her take a deep breath, then felt her hands on his shoulders once again. It really did feel better this way, skin-on-skin. He sighed and closed his eyes. He'd really needed this.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when, a few minutes later, he felt the firm points of her bare breasts graze his back. "What the hell?"

He whipped around so suddenly that she tumbled onto her ass, hitting her head against the wall of the elevator when she landed on her back.

She immediately raised a hand to her head, her eyes smarting with tears. "I'm sorry, Rob. I should have warned you."

His anger faded as soon as he saw she'd been hurt. "No, it's…it's okay."

He started to reach a hand out to pull her up but then his eyes dropped to her exposed breasts and he drank them in like a drowning man.

She saw desire flare in his eyes and immediately knew she would be the victor. There was a new confidence in her voice when she spoke. "Kiss me, Rob."

"W…what?" His eyes flashed to hers uncomprehendingly.

She shifted her body until she was laying fully on her back, looking up at him, her own longing clear in her eyes. "Kiss me, Rob. It's been so long since I've been touched by a man. I want to feel your hands on my body."

While he continued to stare at her dumbfounded, she lifted his unresisting hands and brought them to her breasts. A moan slipped through her lips as her eyes fluttered close.

That seemed to do the trick. His hands immediately curved to the shape of her breasts in his palm. He just held them at first, testing their weight. They were small and neat, with shell-pink aureoles that were as cute as her smile. He felt like _he_ was taking advantage of _her_ but she was so willing…

Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned down and took one pebbled nipple into his mouth. Her loud moan ricocheted off the walls of the elevator as she thread her fingers through the damp mop of his hair and pressed him closer.

"Oh Rob…"

Her moans spurred him on. He cupped her breast as he laved attention on it with his tongue, drawing as much of the small globe into his mouth as he could fit. Her hands were pulling at his hair, turning him on, one bare foot (When had she taken her shoes off?) was rubbing against his crotch.

He reached a hand down under her skirt and immediately felt the wet heat between her thighs. She was sopping. He stroked her through her panties, his movements becoming bolder as her hips started moving against his hand. Was it his imagination or could he smell her excitement? The smell was heady and he felt himself grow hard and heavy.

"Fuck me, Rob..." she begged.

He lifted his head to look at her face but her eyes were still closed, her small teeth biting down on her lower lip.

Still looking at her, he slipped one finger inside her panties and stroked her wet slit. She moaned even louder and that decided him.

He quickly reached down, unsnapped his jeans and released his straining erection. When he turned his gaze back to her, his hands lifting to push her skirt up, he was surprised to find her skirt already bunched at her waist and her panties off. _When had she moved?_

He froze for a minute, still a little hesitant and unsure. A lot of strange things had happened to him since he had come to the U.S. but this was by far the strangest. Before he could get too immersed in his memories, the feel of her mouth sliding down his shaft immediately brought him back to the present.

"Ahh!" he groaned, closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. "That feels so good."

His hand threaded in her hair as she continued to pleasure him with her mouth. However, he soon found himself wanting more. Tightening his hand in her hair, he brought her mouth up to his as he pushed her onto her back. This time, his movements were sure as he nudged her thighs apart and settled between them. Maintaining the kiss, he gripped her hip with one hand and gently eased his length into her tight warmth.

He couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through him as she enveloped him. The feeling of amazement that settled upon him made him realize just how deprived he really was.

He set a slow but steady pace, wanting to take his time and savor the sensations, not knowing when he would be feeling them again. She let him lead at first, appearing to be content with his sedate tempo, but soon enough, her legs were gripping him tightly to her, her heels pressing into his ass as she lifted her hips high and pushed hard against his thrusts. Finally, with a drawn-out sigh, she stopped moving.

He lifted his head, confusion evident in his eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"Fuck me, Rob," she demanded

His eyes widened. "What?"

"I said fuck me."

His confusion deepened. "But…weren't we just…"

She shook her head. "That isn't fucking, Rob. Fucking is wild, crazy, rough, fun."

"I thought girls like it when guys are gentle and considerate?"

"They do but that's not what I told you I wanted."

He stared at her while he processed what she said.

With a grunt of impatience, she reversed their positions, pushing him onto his back and sinking down on him. The pace she set was fast and hard. He made an attempt to slow her, gently gripping her hips, but to no avail. If anything, she increased her speed. It was becoming increasingly painful for him because her walls were squeezing his shaft a little too tightly. He found himself wincing even as he approached orgasm.

"Oh, yeah! That feels so good!" she cried. Her head was thrown back, her eyes squeezed shut. She was lost in her own little world, he knew. He could've been anybody at that moment, it didn't really matter.

She ground into him one last time before he felt her quiver around him. Her climax spurred his but even as he came, he groaned in pain, wincing as her muscles squeezed the life out of his dick. He didn't recall ever having such a painful orgasm. This certainly was a day of firsts.

A few minutes later, when their breathing had returned to normal, he started to push himself to a sitting position, expecting her to climb off of him. Instead, she scrambled to her knees in front of him, her ass high in the air, and ordered imperiously, "Again!"

"What?!" he blurted in disbelief.

"That was great but I'm still hungry. Come on. You're still hard. Fuck me!"

He got to his knees, reaching for his clothes, intending to dress and get the hell away from this nut-job.

"Please, Rob," she whimpered, her little girl voice back in full force. "It may be a long time before I ever feel anything like this again."

"Oh hell," he muttered, wiping a hand over his face.

_Come on_, the licentious voice encouraged. _She may be a kook but pussy is pussy. Since when do you look a gift-horse in the mouth?_

Again, it had a point.

Looking down at her, seeing her firm little butt raised high, her bald pussy glistening beneath, he knew he couldn't walk away from that…not with his manhood intact.

Positioning himself behind her, he grasped her hips and thrust. She screamed and the sound grated on his nerves but he continued moving.

"Oh, yeah! Fuck me, Edward, fuck meeee!"

_Edward_, he mouthed to himself. The girl really _was_ off her rocker. She had totally lost hold of reality.

"Faster! Harder!" she demanded.

He tried his best to keep up but he just wasn't used to such aggressive sex. He could get kinky as much as the next guy but this was too much. Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer that he would survive the encounter with his life…and his penis.

He was so distracted that he thought he heard her wrong when she spoke again. "What?"

"Bite me!"

"What the hell?"

She reached a hand back and grabbed his where it held her hip and brought it to her lips, causing him to lose his balance and fall onto her heavily. She yelled, "Bite me!", then sank her teeth into the captured hand.

Rob screamed in agony. "Fuck! Bitch, what is wrong with you?" His other hand automatically grabbed her hair, trying to pull her off his hand.

"Oh, yes, Edward. That feels so good. Hurt me, please!"

He soon realized that she enjoyed the pain. He wasn't usually turned on by abusing women but considering how much his hand still hurt, he was in just the right mood to give it to her. Fisting his hand in her hair, he pulled hard, bringing her up off her hands and to her knees, his hips thrusting hard, not caring if it hurt or not. She obviously got off on pain so he was only too happy to oblige.

"Oh, yes. Oh, yes." She continued to hold his hand, though she was no longer biting it. "Bite me, please, Edward," she whimpered brokenly.

Robert sank his teeth into her shoulder and immediately felt her spasm around him for a second time. When he felt himself coming, he was more than a little surprised. The situation was, without a doubt, ridiculous, but if he was honest with himself, he'd admit that it was the most unexpected and original thing to happen to him in a long time and, despite himself, he was enjoying it.

As the shudders subsided, she sank to the floor in a damp, quivering heap. Rob grabbed his clothes and immediately began putting them on, not wanting to give her the chance to attack or coerce him again.

Ten minutes later they were both dressed, standing apart from each other against the wall of the elevator. He didn't know what to say to her and she was busy filing away the experience for later masturbatory use.

Suddenly, the emergency lights switched off and the regular lights came back on as the elevator began moving again. Purse already in hand, she punched the button for the next floor, waiting until the elevator stopped and the doors opened before she turned to Rob.

"It hardly sums up the gratitude I feel but thank you, Robert. I'll never forget it...or you" Gone was the nymphomaniac: in her place was the sweet, homely girl that he had first met. Rob shook his head at the quick change, unable to respond.

Flashing a smile, she stepped out of the elevator and he watched the doors quietly slide close behind her.

As the doors opened again on the ground floor and Rob walked out of the lobby into the fresh, sunny day, he found himself smiling. A laugh bubbled up in his throat. It really had been a crazy day. He didn't know if anyone would believe him if he told them what had happened. Despite being bitten and practically assaulted, he felt light and re-energized. It may have been an unorthodox sexual encounter but it had worked at relaxing him far better than any massage ever would.

_Three days later…._

Rob walked into the lobby of the building, turning towards the elevator bank, a discernible spring in his step. His good mood of the past three days was a nice change and he thoroughly enjoyed it. As he entered the elevator, he thought about what had happened there to bring about the change in his demeanor. He chuckled to himself, grateful for the experience but glad that it would never be repeated. He glanced down at his bandaged hand, a reminder of 'the incident' as he mentally referred to it, where her teeth had pierced his skin.

"Thank God I'll never see her again," her murmured. "I don't think I'd survive a second encounter."

He exited the elevator on the 50th floor, just like before. This time, his agent was waiting for him.

"Robert," Fred greeted, a cherry smile on his chubby face. Good ol' dependable Fred. He was his substitute father whenever he was away from home. "Everyone's waiting for you. The director, producer, and the female lead has finally been decided," he said as they approached the huge gold doors.

It almost felt like déjà vu.

"Who is she?" Robert asked as they stopped outside the door.

"It's a surprise," Fred said gleefully. "I think you'll be happy with the choice, though."

Fred pushed open the door and they walked into a luxurious conference room. There were a bunch of people milling about, most of whom he didn't recognize. Fred put his hand on his arm and steered him toward the other end of the room where there was a group of people crowded around some papers on a desk.

Fred cleared his throat, clapping his hands. "Robert…"

The people looked up, one by one. He recognized the director and the producer.

"…may I introduce…"

The last pair of eyes to meet his belonged to a face he had thought, hoped, he would never see again.

"…your co-star, Em…"

Robert tuned out as the shell-pink lips curved in a smile, wicked laughter evident in her eyes as her teeth came down on her bottom lip.

He stopped breathing. Eyes wide and incapable of coherent thought, only one word passed through his mind.

_Fuck!_

________________________________________________________________________________________

A.N. I don't know if it shows but just as I got to the sex, my brain shut down. It took me three weeks from starting to finish it. I apologize if it seems disjointed in any way. I hope it was enjoyable nonetheless and be sure to let me know what you thought. The next chapter is already in the works and, hopefully, won't take another three weeks to complete. Cross your fingers for no more brain farts!


	3. Chapter 3: Half Of You

Disclaimer: If you're easily offended by anything of a homosexual nature, do not proceed past this point. This chapter isn't lemony like the others but if the idea of Rob involved in ANY kind of man-on-man action is repulsive to you, then you should probably skip this chapter. I just want to clarify that I am in no way suggesting that there is something going on between the two of them. I am _more_ than a little bit in love with TomStu so I would rather he _not_ have a thing for Rob, but if he did, I'd be cool with it.

A/N: Although all of the chapters are named after songs (and quite appropriately too), this chapter actually has a song to go with it. If you don't mind, please take a listen to it as you read. (couldn't post the link here so it's on my profile)

And if you're curious about the song/title for this chapter, you can take a listen to it (link is also on my profile)

**Happy reading!**

* * *

Chapter 3

Half Of You

"I still can't believe you did that!" Tom exclaimed as he and Rob drunkenly stumbled across the threshold into their loft. Rob barely made it to the sofa before he collapsed.

Chuckling, he struggled out of his jacket and attempted to remove his sneakers before giving up and lying back against the sofa. "Well, it's my last night home. I had to leave my mark. Who knows when I'll be back, right?"

"Right…" Tom agreed, his face suddenly serious as he leaned against the door, looking down at Rob.

Rob's smile faltered a bit and he rose to his feet, walking towards Tom. "What's wrong?"

Tom shook his head. "I just can't believe you're leaving tomorrow."

Rob grinned. "Yeah, but you'll come visit me so it's not like we're never gonna see each other again." Rob chuckled. "You'll probably have a different girl in here every night and for once you won't have me to worry about!"

He raised his hand to playfully punch Tom in the arm but was surprised when Tom caught it.

"It won't be the same without you," Tom said solemnly, his blue eyes clear as they bore into Rob's.

Rob sobered up immediately, his buzz gone. "Tom…" he began.

"It suddenly occurred to me just now that this is it. After tonight, this won't be _our_ place anymore. It'll be _my_ place…or if I get tired of being here alone, pussy out and go home, it'll be someone else's. But it'll never be ours again."

Tom brought the hand he held to his chest, just over his heart. "You're my best friend. Without you…"

Tom dropped Rob's hand and pushed away from the door, walking to the window overlooking the park across the street.

"Tom..." Rob walked up behind him and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. "Wherever I am, you'll still be my best friend. I won't be gone forever and when I come back I'll need somewhere to return to…and _someone_."

Tom turned around, resting his head back against the window as he considered Rob beneath half-lowered lids.

"You say that now but you have no idea what will happen. You might like it there. You'll end up buying a house and…" He smiled slightly. "You're probably going to fall in love with her you know. You've had a thing for her forever. Kristen Stewart…" Tom rolled his eyes.

Rob's cheeks flushed. It was true: Kristen had been a celebrity crush of his and now he was going to have the chance to work with her.

He scoffed, feigning indifference. "Please! She already has a boyfriend and really, I'm not gonna be there that long so what would be the point of getting seriously involved with anyone? If I have an itch, I'm going to scratch it but beyond a minor fling…" His voice trailed off and he shrugged.

Rob caught and held Tom's gaze. "Tom…I _will_ be back."

The two continued to stare at one another as silence reigned. Suddenly, there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere; a new awareness of the other struck them both.

Tom straightened and his breath caught in his throat.

_What the hell_…Where were these thoughts and feelings suddenly coming from? Why was it that he suddenly noticed just how brilliant Rob's eyes were? The carelessly sexy way he ran his hand through his mussed hair when he was nervous. The crooked smile that he was certain sent the girls' hearts aflutter. They'd been friends for years and none of these things had ever made any kind of impression on him.

_And why is it_, he asked himself, _I suddenly feel like touching him_? Really _touching him_.

Tom was not alone in his newly awakened state. Rob's heart was beating awfully fast, his mind racing a mile a minute while he tried to figure out why Tom's beautiful blue eyes and pouty red lips were calling to him. In his mind's eye, he saw himself threading his fingers through Tom's thick, black hair and pulling his mouth to his.

He gasped in shock. What alarmed him most was not that he even thought it but the fact that he wasn't repulsed by the thought.

"Tom…" he breathed.

Without giving consideration to care or consequence, Tom leaned forward and gently, tentatively, pressed his lips to Rob's.

Rob's hands came up, fisting in Tom's shirt as he intended to push him away. Instead, he found himself pulling him closer, his lips moving against Tom's as the kiss deepened.

The kiss went on for several minutes. Tom was the first to pull back. He took deep, gulping breaths as he fought to calm his breathing and racing thoughts.

Rob seemed frozen: he didn't move, nor did he say anything.

A deep blush stole across Tom's face as his cheeks burned with mortification. He had just kissed his best friend! What the hell was wrong with him?

"Rob, I'm so sor..."

His words were cut off as Rob fisted his hand in Tom's hair and dragged his mouth back to his, just as he had imagined. This time the kiss was passionate and rough as his tongue plundered the soft recesses of Tom's mouth.

While one hand still threaded Tom's hair, the other wound round his waist and pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together. The hand at Tom's waist slid just under the hem of his shirt and slowly stroked the warm, sensitive skin there, sending shivers up Tom's spine.

Again, Tom pulled away, his eyes intense as they bore into Rob's.

"Rob…what are we doing?"

Rob took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. "I don't know," he said honestly. "What I _do_ know is that I have this strong urge to touch you… To hold…to taste…and I don't feel like fighting it. I don't _want_ to." His eyes flickered to Tom's kiss swollen lips before meeting his eyes again. "Maybe we're crazy, maybe it's just _me_ but…tonight is our last night 'til who knows when. At least this way it will be…memorable."

Tom gasped as a wave of hunger crashed over him at Rob's words. Pressing his advantage, Rob backed Tom up against the wall, tore his shirt off and was kissing him again before Tom could even think about stopping him…

Not that he had planned on it. Rob's words had completely robbed him of any hesitancy and he didn't spare a thought for possible regrets in the morning.

Tom slid his hand up the front of Rob's soon-to-be-famous Stoli t-shirt, his fingers boring holes into the thin fabric as he sought to get to the skin underneath.

Rob pulled away and took Tom's hand, leading him to the nearest bedroom.

When they were standing at the foot of Rob's bed, Tom reversed their roles and became the aggressor. He pulled Rob's t-shirt over his head, threw it aside, and pushed him down on the bed before climbing on top of him.

They gazed into each other's eyes, wonder and curiosity evident in both their depths, but foremost was desire and love.

Tom lowered his face to Rob's as Rob raised his to Tom's and with their lips they conveyed what words, in that moment, could not.

_The next morning_…

He had been awake for a while, sitting up and staring at the ceiling, the coward that he was afraid to look at the sleeping boy beside him. He could not believe what he had done…what _they_ had done.

They weren't gay, neither of them had exhibited homosexual tendencies before, yet what they'd done the night before was definitely not 'straight' behaviour.

Tom stirred in his sleep, muttering softly.

Rob chanced a glance at him. His features were relaxed and peaceful in sleep.

_He really is quite beautiful_, he thought, as his eyes skimmed along the sharp, angular planes of Tom's face and jaw, noting the way his long eyelashes brushed the pale skin beneath.

Tom lay on his side, his back half-turned toward Rob, and as Rob's eyes slid over him, he found himself noticing even more things about his friend that he'd never picked up on. Like the sprinkling of moles on his back and shoulders, or the fact that for such a little guy, his shoulder-frame was pretty wide.

_He could have had a rather developed figure if he'd wanted, I suppose_, Rob thought absently.

Just then, Tom peeked up at him. He didn't say anything, staying quiet as he expected accusations and recriminations to be forthcoming.

Rob merely stared at him for a moment before a smile tilted the corner of his mouth. "Hi."

Tom instantly knew everything was okay. He felt the tension drain from his body and he was able to smile back. He still felt like he should say _something_ so he cleared his throat.

"Rob…" he began, his voice husky.

Rob pressed a gentle finger to his lips. "Don't. What happened last night…it doesn't change anything. You're still you and I'm still me. We're still _us_. We're not suddenly gay or anything, we just…took our friendship to the next level."

_What the hell does that even mean?_ Rob wondered, pausing for a second.

Taking a deep breath, he continued. "Neither of us had ever been with a guy before so now we know!"

Tom chuckled, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "Well, there was that time in Harrodian…"

Rob playfully thumped him on the arm, his own eyes glittering with laughter. "What happens in Harrodian stays in Harrodian."

They shared a smile but all too soon the jovial mood died and Rob could see the worry return to Tom's eyes.

"We'll be okay, Tom," he assured him, his tone urgent as if he was also trying to convince himself.

Tom sighed deeply then rolled onto his side, away from Rob once more. Rob snaked his arm across Tom's waist and linked his fingers with Tom's where his hand lay on the bed. He pressed a kiss to his shoulder then rested his head on the pillow beside Tom's.

Rob knew that these were stolen moments: they would never speak of it again. The moment they left the bed, it would be as if it never happened. They would go back to being RobStu: best friends shooting the shit, getting drunk, having fun. Except, they wouldn't be doing that again…not for a while, anyway. Rob finally acknowledged what he'd been avoiding for so long: when he left, he'd be leaving Tom. Tom, his virtual other half. He hadn't wanted to think about how desperately he'd miss him but he couldn't ignore the crushing despair in his heart just then.

His fingers tightened where they held Tom's. In that moment, he knew with absolute certainty that when he left, he'd be leaving a piece of himself behind.


End file.
